Chances
by Megan Liberty
Summary: Tony DiNozzo can't continue to watch life pass him by. Some chances are worth taking.


Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Or the quotes from Five for Fighting's "Chances." Listen to the song while you read, if the mood suits you.

Tony DiNozzo can't continue to watch life pass him by. Some chances are worth taking.

Chances

xxxxx

_"Chances are, when said and done, who'll be the lucky ones, who make it all the way?"_

xxxxx

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah boss?"

"Is there a reason you're here early?" The last word's tone tilts up slightly into a question.

Tony shrugged. "Not really my cup of tea, but I guess it's hers."

"Rule 12?"

Tony smiled a giant smile. "No, ahh, well not yet." He sighed. "I kind of, you see, it's-"

"Wha'd ya do this time, DiNozzo?" Gibbs sits on the edge of his desk.

"Threatened to snap _The_ Miami Heat's neck if he lays a hand on her with more than a pg expectation."

Gibbs smirked thoughtfully. "Saw her kiss him, DiNozzo?"

Tony scratched the back of his head nervously. "Almost pummeled him when he left his apartment."

"Spying on him too? That's stalking, DiNozzo."

"I know, Boss. I just can't stand it."

"Then tell her the truth."

"Rule 12, Boss?"

"Did you ever do anything right before me?" The quirk of Gibbs' eyebrows gives Tony a more philosophic point of view before. There may, in fact, be life before Gibbs.

But don't quote him on it just yet.

xxxxx

_"Chances are we'll find a new equation, chances roll away from me."_

xxxxx

When Agent David shows up later on that morning, she refuses to acknowledge him. It only serves to fuel her anger when he meets her fiery gaze.

"Can I help you, Zee-vah?"

She slams a binder shut, the contents of the case she's working on closing harder than the prison cell of the perp that she caught a few days before that's the reason for her paperwork.

"Only if you can tell me why you needed to come between Ray and I."

He faulters for a minute, and if he wasn't so good at hiding his true feelings behind his childish antics, Ziva might have seen a DiNozzo with reddened cheeks. Shrugging, he looks back at his computer screen and responds.

"Just don't think he's the right one for you, realistically speaking, of course."

"And what movie quote supports this thesis?" Her hands are up in the air, and for a moment he thinks she might be a teeny bit Italian, judging by the way she speaks with her hands. The deadly glint in her eye though, is all Israli assasin. Scratch that Italian bit. She'd never be allowed in any mob or maffia he's ever heard of.

Snapping back to reality himself, DiNozzo meets her gaze again. "No movie quotes. Just experience."

"With what?"

"With you, Zee-vah. You're not the kind for all the fireworks and Hollywood treatment."

"And you would know this, Tony?" Her eyebrows are raised, and her tone indicates her curiousity. "I'd love to hear this explanation." Meanwhile, she casts a glance to the poor Probie that practically teleports him to Abby's lab, in a second he is gone.

"You get enough action at work. You'd want someone to make you feel special, without the trinkets. You can't tell me he hasn't bought you anything exquisite? I saw that glitz-y bracelet he bought you that you refuse to wear elsewear."

"Perhaps I do not want to lose it," she asserts.

"Or perhaps," Tony muses thoughtfully, tapping his chin, "You're afraid of the commitment because you're scared to settle down with someone who is not the one and living your life in misery." His smirk challenges her to disagree with him.

"I already know he is not the one, Tony."

Well that was easy, he thinks to himself. "Then leave him."

"No."

He shakes his head. "Don't lead him on. He wouldn't just buy you that to string you along. It might help, but if he's shirking responsibilities and buying you sparkly things instead, or intending to marry you while you can't decide if you just like the company and want to wait out Mister Right-"

"I do enjoy the company, Tony. Perhaps I am a bit guilty with what you charge me with. But at least Ray listens, unlike you."

Tony considers this for a second. "If I start listening, will you leave him?"

Ziva shakes her head and smiles, "It is strange that you accuse me of commitment problems when you have your own," she says softly, and Tony feels that he is not getting taken seriously.

xxxxx

_"Chances lost are hope's torn out pages, maybe this time."_

xxxxx

It's a week later when Tony no longer hears about Ray. He no longer pushes, but instead finds a different way to make his point clear.

It had only taken a month after that to finally figure out exactly what it was that he needed to do.

xxxxx

_"Chances are waiting to be taken, and I can see."_

xxxxx

It's another quiet morning when Gibbs comes in and Tony is pacing in front of his desk as if waiting for the the suspect Gibbs will be interrogating this afternoon to explode into a riveting, yet guilty confession.

"Tony." Not DiNozzo, but _Tony_. He doesn't quite know what to think, so he stops pacing. "Sit down."

Short commands seem to have a good effect, and Tony sits down. Gibbs waits until he stops fidgeting to continue.

"You tell her yet?"

"She didn't take me seriously."

Gibbs nodds, and sits at McGee's desk, so that the two agents are facing each other, though it's more of a father-son discussion.

"You gonna make her see you're serious?"

Tony gulps. Now's about as good a time as ever. "Yeah, about that. I need to ask you something."

Gibbs' eyes soften for a split second as Tony looks about ready to spill his guts about all the reasons for his pacing, and his rambling will most likely rival Abby's. But Gibbs is Gibbs, so he nods once.

"Shoot."

xxxxx

_"Chances are the fascinations, chances won't escape me."_

xxxxx

This time, when they fight, it seems that she is ready to do battle. It was about something small, completely insignificant.

"We aren't going to argue over this, Ziva," Tony says carefully.

"Maybe if you just stayed out of my business, we wouldn't have these arguments. You took that case file to get my attention."

"Maybe I did," he concedes. "But this is important."

"What is important," Ziva says, playing completely into his hand, "is that you can never take a single thing seriously. And then you wonder why I get so angry."

"What if I start?" Tony asks. "Then would it be better? Would we fight less?"

"I do not know," she says, surprised by his answer and obviously tired of fighting. "Just give me my case file." When he goes into the locked top drawer of his desk, he pulls the file out, tenderly, with both hands.

Gibbs looks up at the two, and Tony swallows a sheepish look, praying the woman does not kill him with her glare when he gets within three feet of her.

He sets the file down gently on top of the mound of paperwork that has been placed on her right side, closes to Gibbs's desk.

She looks down at it, rolls her eyes. "Pick me up," She reads on the post-it plastered on the top of the case file, written in Tony's handwriting.

"What'd you do," Ziva questions, "Put a fake spider under the file?"

"My bet is it's a cockroach," McGee pipes up from his desk, with a smirk that says he knows Tony's brand of pranks.

"Neither," Tony says, Standing between his desk and hers. "I'm not joking; this is serious. Lift the file up, "Zee-vah."

The blue velvet box flipped open under the monsterous file is enough to make the ninja gasp, and the dainty, tasteful diamond ring is revealed to the light for the first time.

"Tony," She barely chokes out, halfway between shock and excitement and surprise and tears, "You - you better-"

"Marry me, Ziva."

xxxxx

_"Chances are only what we make them, and all I need."_

xxxxx

Thanks for reading. -JL


End file.
